After Hours
by impossigirl
Summary: The best conversations are worth having when the world doesn't need saving. A collection of Fics highlighting the relationships between the Librarians, their Guardian, and everyone in between. Feel free to request a pairing!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - Eve & Flynn - Set between _The Sword in the Stone_ & _The Apple of Discord_**

 **Summary:** Eve shares some thoughts on Flynn as he pays an unexpected visit to the Annex.

* * *

Eve trained her gun on the backdoor of the annex, her grip unwavering as light seeped in and blinded the room.

"Eve?" A ragged, tired voice filtered through the commotion. Its inflection was a mix of _Please Don't Shoot Me_ and _I Really Hope It's You Behind That Pistol._

She lowered her weapon. "It's 3AM, Librarian." She tried to replace the excitement welling up in her with her casual brand of passive-aggressiveness, but her happiness was hard to displace.

"Do you normally walk around here, gun-in-hand at 3AM Colonel Baird?"

"Actually no, just reading up on incidents of biblical plagues. We, uh, had an incident." She wiped her eyes as the light adjusted in the annex. "I haven't seen you in w—"

Her breath hitched in her throat as she took him in, wincing for the figure stumbling in front of her. "Flynn what happened?"

His face was in various states of black and blue, not to mention the scrapes that speckled his head and hands. He held on to his ribs as he leaned slowly against the wall.

"Bad day at the office."

He pulled a translucent jewel from his pocket. "A piece of H.G. Well's Time Machine. I ran through the footage of the Serpent Brotherhood's attack on the Library. Saw this little guy get snatched up."

She cupped his chin in one hand, moving his head carefully to observe his injuries, ignoring the impossibly powerful artifact in front of her. "If Duloque's men didn't do the job for me, I would slap you so hard right now."

He scratched the back of his head. "Nice to see you too?"

"What were you thinking, facing off the Serpent Brotherhood alone?"

He waved her off and placed the jewel on a table. "It was only a few of Lamia's men." He paused when he realized Eve wasn't buying his excuse. "Okay, maybe more men than I thought. They tried to sell it through a Black Market without anyone finding out. Turns out they're a bit more brawn than brain."

"Ezekiel could have stolen it back, Stone and I can hold our own in a fight. Flynn –"

"I know, I know. In hindsight, not my brightest idea."

She placed her hand gently onto his back, her concern growing when he tensed up to her touch. Leading him to a chair, she kicked her Guardian instincts into high gear. "Let me assess the damage. I think Jenkins has a first kit around here somewhere."

As she spun to survey the room, Flynn grabbed on to her hand gently.

"I'm okay Eve, seriously." He squeezed a little tighter when he had her full attention. An apology, of sorts.

"Just say it," she sighed in defeat. She could tell he was hiding the extent of his pain, for her. She caught every wince in the corner of her eye when he thought she wasn't looking. Because she paid attention.

He stood up carefully and kissed her hand. "I can't stay."

Flynn offered her a meek smile and she realized that this tenderness was an uncommon sight. After all, their last encounter involved him half trying to give her the slip and half dying once they took a liking to each other. Eve appreciated his smile for the rarity that it was, even if it highlighted his injuries in the dark glow of the Annex.

"I know," she replied. "You don't sneak around at 3AM if you were planning to say hello."

"The jewel is safer in the Annex. They won't come looking for it here."

She nodded. "Instead they'll probably come looking for you."

Flynn moved closer to his Guardian to gently tuck a stray hair behind her ear. _Another rare sight_ , she thought as she impulsively ran a hand through her unruly, non-regulation hair.

"I'll be fine." It's a statement of fact from him, more than a promise or a reassurance. "And who knows, that jewel might help us retrieve the Library."

She found a sense of urgency in his eyes, like he was already formulating his next plan – injuries be damned. She couldn't find it in her heart to be angry or annoyed, she'd been in his shoes. A mission more important than his own safety. But she never experienced such a mission in the wake of losing everything, and she'd be lying if his hastiness didn't worry her half to death.

She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, careful to avoid his bruises. A goodbye, for now. He offered her another smile and she hoped more than anything that it became something more than a rarity.

 _Come back alive, Librarian._


	2. Here For You

**Chapter 2: Here For You - Cassandra & Jake**

 **Summary:** When Cassandra needs context for her hallucinations, her mind turns to one person in particular.

* * *

"A-Avogadro's number is modified when multiplying 20 to the mass of...the mass of –"

Dust floats off the chalkboard as Cassandra transfers her rapid thoughts into scribbles. Her eyes move from side-to-side as numbers speed around her mind. She steps to the right to finish the problem, knocking over a pair of flickering candles next to her. Her focus snaps to the floor and the shift in concentration is like a kick to the head. Stumbling slightly, she takes a sharp breath in.

"Strawberries this time." Her voice is a dejected whisper as she scoops up the candles and sets them on the table. "So much for reigning it in. Stupid brain grape."

She studies the dark annex around her before checking her watch. 2:30AM.

She sighs toward the scribbles on the board. She can do better. She _needs_ to do better for the rest of her team. With a quick swipe of the hand, she erases the board with her sleeve.

"Again," she commands to herself, despite the pain ringing in her ears. _Try harder. Control your condition._ The molecular structures, moles, percentages, and every amount in between enters her vision. She sees them twisting in her mind, until in an instant, she doesn't.

Everything is dark, and she feels herself sinking to the ground.

"Grapefruit," she mumbles in pain, nearly incoherent, her body tensing to anticipate a crash to the floor. Instead, she feels the warm touch of skin, a pair of smooth hands cradling her as she loses consciousness.

"Stay with me, Cassie."

 _Grapefruit._

She remembers when his hands were calloused, still bearing the marks of an oil rigger.

 _He had placed his hand on hers, absentmindedly, as he told a story about life in Oklahoma. She twisted a spoon in her free hand, listening intently to the nondescript story about his nameless relatives. He kept his family life close to his chest, and she wondered if they'd only ever be faceless stories to her. But, then again, she was thankful that his trust in her had graduated to sharing memories about himself._

 _Jake finished the anecdote with a hearty laugh and she returned his smile. "Ah man," he began, picking up his fork. "You got a grapefruit in a diner in Texas? It's all about the biscuits and gravy."_

 _"I know," she smiled sheepishly. "Spiders did rain down from the sky today, though. Creepy crawlers make my appetite fly out the window."_

 _"Not the rain Texas had in mind," Stone replied with a grin, staring idly at the stars outside._

 _This had become ritual, for Stone and Cassandra. Backwoods towns, quaint villages in European countries – wherever the backdoor took them, Jake insisted on absorbing each new location fate had placed them._

 _It began after he had met the Archivist in Tesla's town, his eagerness to soak up the sights in each place he saved. Cassandra knew why. And she was okay with this one day being their Paris, these tiny cafes in cities that were in mortal danger only a few hours ago. And one day, she desperately hoped, she wouldn't be a stand in for someone else._

"Cassandra?"

Soft hands were combing gently through her hair now. She stirs awake, taking a deep breath in. "I'm okay." She scrambles to sit up as she notices his eyes reading the equations on the chalkboard.

"All of this work. Are you trying to get yourself killed?" His voice is gentle, full of concern, but the accusation stings nonetheless.

"I'm getting better," she defended, probably a little too snappy. His blue eyes pierce hers. "At adding context to sensations. Memories," she quickly adds.

"So what was grapefruit?"

She keeps her lips pursed, not ready to have _that_ kind of conversation with him any time soon. The conversation where she admits that he is tied to all of her memories now, whether she liked it or not. The handful of childhood memories worth remembering? That well had run dry. Every smile, every happy memory now belonged to him.

She waits for the _I Told You So's_ and the well-intentioned lecture. Instead, he simply offers her a hand up off the floor.

"I'm here for you." He wipes off the board and hands her a piece of chalk. "If you think you have to sneak around to practice, please, just let me be here for you."

She nods, and closes her eyes. If only he knew.


End file.
